devon zinnel '17 Recruiting Profile

I have been playing field hockey for 6 years. While field hockey is very important to me, I also focus greatly on my academic standing and am always striving to do better in sports and schools in order to complete personal goals. I hope to play field hockey all throughout my college years and possibly continue to play after that. My current interest of study involves Communications. I am a very dedicated writer and love to write poetry when I'm not playing field hockey. 

Season of Fall

Some people love the crinkle in the leaves 
They love the colors that fill the trees
They admire, sitting by the fire
With a warm tea in their hands and their cozy attire

But I love this season
For a much different reason
Its not the scarves, the trees, the tea
Its not the holiday of Halloween

Its a passion that burns like the wood in your fires
Its a love I have like your love for the cozy attire
Its what keeps my happiness higher than a tree
Its what makes me the sadness exit me

Its a feeling inside that’s hard to explain
When your legs are on fire but your hearts still in the game
When you get the right power to strike it across the field
Passing through the defenses shield

What an exzotic feeling in the air
Against the back of my shoulders I feel gross sweaty hair
Here it comes, a small bright orange ball
I whip it back to my teammate when she calls

“SCORE SCORE SCORE” yelling from the side lines
I run ahead to the post goal, screaming, yelling, “Mine, mine, mine!”
The goalie and I begin a war
And from the sides I hear the crowd start to roar

Struggling for the score,
I send it to my teammate across the floor
She shoots it in and together we score
But its not over, we still want more

Here we go again, tearing up the floor
Plenty more goals galore
We can do this, we always win
Well keep on playing with bruises covering our skin

The ball is flying as it hits her knee
The whistle blows of the referee
Our possession, self start and go
The crowd still roaring and we begin to play our show

Past the sticks, aired as high as the leaves
Skills come as naturally as nature breathes
Our MVP hits it through 
And now it hits the defenses shoe

Again you hear the whistle blow
Sticks down, getting low
She sends it across the 50 yard line and up to the post 
Plowing through the defender as though she was a ghost

When the ball smacks the back of the cage
Our opponents begin to throw out rage
They play it out and begin to improve
But the horn blows, they loose

We won again and we’ll win tomorrow
The teams we verse all cry in sorrow
I love the game and this is the reason
Im always excited for the fall season

By Devon Zinnel